Kevin Gilbert - Australia
KIACATOO
Australian aboriginal activist, writer, poet (1933-1993)
Kevin Gilbert was born in Condobolin, New South Wales in 1933, of the Wiradjuri and Kamilaroi peoples. He left school after fifth grade at age fourteen, and worked in itinerant seasonal jobs. In 1957 Gilbert was sentenced to life imprisonment after a domestic dispute in which his wife was killed. During the fourteen years that he spent in some of the worst jails in Australia he strove to educate himself, honing his artistic talents to become a prominent poet, playwright, printmaker (Gilbert was Australia's first recognised Aboriginal printmaker) and photographer.
Gilbert wrote the play The Cherry Pickers in 1968 and first exhibited his work in 1970 at the Arts Council Gallery, Sydney, in an exhibition organised by the Australia Council. He was granted parole in 1971. Gilbert was instrumental in the establishment of the Aboriginal Tent Embassy opposite Old Parliament House, Canberra the following year, and wrote Because a White Man'll Never Do It in 1973. His book Living Black: Blacks Talk to Kevin Gilbert (1977) was awarded the National Book Council Book Award in 1978.
Gilbert was Chairperson of the Treaty '88 campaign, which fought for the establishment of a treaty enshrining Aboriginal rights and sovereignty. In this capacity he also organised the touring photography exhibition Inside Black Australia, in which his own work was included. In 1988 Gilbert was awarded the Human Rights and Equal Opportunity Commission's Human Rights Award for Literature for his anthology of Aboriginal poetry, Inside Black Australia, which he returned; feeling he could not accept such an award while his people were denied human rights in their own land. His work was included in Narragunnawali at the Canberra Contemporary Art Space in 1989. In 1992 he received a Australian Artists Creative Fellowship from the Australia Council. Kevin Gilbert died in 1993. The Kevin Gilbert Memorial Trust was established in 1993 to further his aspirations.
Lachland River
KIACATOO
On the banks of the Lachlan they caught us
at a place called Kiacatoo
we gathered by campfires at sunset
when we heard the death-cry of curlew
women gathered the children around them
men reached for their nulla and spear
the curlew again gave the warning
of footsteps of death drawing near
Barjoola whirled high in the firelight
and casting his spear screamed out “Run!”
his body scorched quickly on embers
knocked down by the shot of a gun
the screaming curlew’s piercing whistle
was drowned by the thunder of shot
men women and child fell in mid-flight
and a voice shouted “We’ve bagged the lot”
and singly the shots echoed later
to quieten each body that stirred
above the gurgling and bleeding
a nervous man’s laugh could be heard
“They’re cunning this lot, guard the river”
they shot until all swimmers sank
but they didn’t see Djarmal’s family
hide in the lee of the bank
Djarmal warned “Stay quiet or perish
they’re cutting us down like wild dogs
put reeds in your mouth – underwater
we’ll float out of here under logs”
a shot cracked and splintered the timber
the young girl Kalara clutched breath
she later became my great grandma
and told the story of my people’s death
The Yoorung bird cries by that place now
no big fish will swim in that hole
my people pass by that place quickly
in fear with quivering soul
at night when the white ones are sleeping
content in their modern day dreams
we hurry past Kiacatoo
where we still hear shuddering screams
you say “Sing me no songs of past history
let us no further discuss”
but the question remains still unanswered
How can you deny us like Pilate
refusing the rights due to us.
The land is now all allocated
the Crown’s common seal is a shroud
to cover the land thefts the murder
but can’t silence the dreams
Source: Gilbert, Kevin. “Kiacatoo”. Inside Black Australia: An Anthology of Aboriginal Poetry .